


Calla Lilies & Robins

by Validity_For_Dissonance



Series: ~ to wither; to bloom ~ [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sick Character, So much tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 23:00:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17109788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Validity_For_Dissonance/pseuds/Validity_For_Dissonance
Summary: Kurapika faces the consequences of his choices as his body succumbs to the effects of Emperor Time. He knows that his death is imminent, though Chrollo insists otherwise.





	Calla Lilies & Robins

Candlelight flickered gently in the otherwise consuming darkness. With a deft finger, Chrollo turned a page in his book, barely noticing when the bedroom door opened then closed. Kurapika spared a moment to look at him, immersed as he was in one of peculiar books, before releasing a small, amused huff and walking towards the bed.

“I never understood how you could read with only a candle as a source of light,” he said, his voice lowered so as to not distort the comforting quietude.

Chrollo looked up to see the blond gazing down at him, clad in sleepwear and looking sedate. His lips rose in an amused smile. Just as quietly, he said, “You get used to it, if you spend years with no other option.”

Kurapika hummed at the response and slowly removed the book from his hands to place it on the bedside table. He was acutely aware of the eyes that followed his every movement, which served to arouse in him a sensuality that had lain dormant before beginning this courtship of theirs.

With a single breath of air, he extinguished the flame and drowned the room in darkness.

Resting both hands on Chrollo’s shoulders for leverage, Kurapika positioned himself on his lap languidly, linking his fingers loosely around the other man’s neck as he stared into fathomless grays. The intimacy they forged so easily was intoxicating; addictive in the voiceless understanding that was conveyed by lust-filled gazes. The surrounding air felt thick, and their skins were flushed.

Eyes half-lidded and dark, Chrollo leaned forward but only slightly, his lips brushing against Kurapika’s with feather-light delicacy, always inching away when the blond leaned into the touch. He pecked him lightly and retracted, enjoying how Kurapika grew more feverish and impatient with every almost-kiss, his eyes glowing scarlet in the moonlight-kissed night.

Eventually, Kurapika’s fingers tangled through raven tresses as he pulled his lover towards him, bringing their mouths together in a long, sensual kiss, their bodies swaying gently as they succumbed to the dizzying hold of desire.

Chrollo trailed a path up the smooth line of Kurapika’s neck with his lips, pausing just beneath his jaw to nibble and plant searing kisses. He slid his hands under his thighs and pulled so that he was pressed flush against him, reveling in the delicious friction as the blond slowly ground his hips against his, feeling their lengths harden as they rubbed together.

A low groan escaped his lips, sending a shiver down Kurapika’s spine. “I want you,” Chrollo rasped. “Oh, how I want you…”

And suddenly, Kurapika found himself falling onto the mattress, his breath coming in short pants and his eyes glazed over. Golden tresses framed his face and splayed across the pillow, and Chrollo took delight in the way they spilled like silk from between his fingers. He nuzzled his neck and inhaled deeply.

“Kurapika…” his voice came in a whisper.

“Mm…?” but the blond was far removed from his senses, lazily running a hand over his lover’s head as he listened to the whispered confessions.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Chrollo’s chest. “You’re so addictive…” He ran a hand down the blond’s bare leg and rested his palm heavily against his inner thigh. When Kurapika’s breath hitched and he released the softest sound, Chrollo was already sliding his shorts down his legs. “My Achilles’ heel…”  
  
One hand crept up the blond’s tank top to splay over his abdomen and chest, and the other held his thigh as soft lips teased their way up the silken flesh. Kurapika released a shuddering moan when a wet, enveloping heat surrounded his erection, and he laced his fingers through his lover’s hair, biting his lips to suppress a mewl at a languid lick.

Chrollo was mercilessly unhurried in his treatment, resting his lips lightly against the blond’s length so that his voice was slightly muffled when he spoke. “And the sounds you make…” Kurapika let out a choked moan when he latched onto his head with his mouth, sucking him slowly before releasing. “… are an aphrodisiac.”

“You talk…” Kurapika began, only to be cut off by a small mewl when the other man twirled his tongue around him. “A… lot… _oh_ …!”

A lubricated finger prodded into him, easing slowly in and out, building tension in the lower part of his stomach with every deliberate stroke. One became two, and two became three, and Kurapika could swear that he tasted the luscious nectar of ecstasy as his spine arched until his back no longer touched the bed. Every whine and gasp he released, throaty and thick with drunken pleasure, served to darken Chrollo’s heavy-lidded, consuming gaze.

Cupping Kurapika’s face with his two hands, Chrollo caressed just beneath his lower lids, prompting him to open his eyes and gaze into two dark abysses. Mesmerized, the blond could not look away, and suddenly, he was full, bracing the older man’s weight as he rocked into him deeply.

“Kurapika…” said Chrollo in a thick whisper, the sound impossibly erotic in his ear. “Hold onto me.”

And he abided, bringing both arms to wrap around strong shoulders, his nail digging softly into his flesh. He held on with all that he could muster, biting his lips and arching into every thrust. It was a sensual dance; slow and lustful, passionate in abandon.

With a rough, toe-curling thrust, Kurapika cried out his release, and Chrollo soon followed, hissing a curse that he uttered like a prayer.

But the world stopped spinning in one agonizing moment when a sharp pain in his chest suddenly stole away Kurapika’s breath. His eyes widened and he stilled, taking in large gulps of air and willing his heartbeat to return to normal, but it continued to beat in an arrhythmic pattern, hurting him with every pump of blood.

The raven haired man recovered quickly from his post-coital daze, anchoring his lover with careful hands and a quickly rising panic that was mostly concealed under a well-worn mask.

“Kurapika—Kurapika _look at me_ ,” he urged, his voice rising a note. When the blond turned wide, frightened eyes to look into his, he continued, “Breathe _slowly_ and _deeply_ , Kurapika, slowly and deeply.”

The words resounded distantly in his mind, but he managed to do as told, breaking off in a cough whose egress was eased by firm claps on his back. When the wave was gone, he became impossibly still.

With two fingers, Chrollo brought Kurapika’s face in his direction, retrieving him from his stupor. A word began to form on the older man’s lips, but the blond spoke before he could.

“It’s nothing,” came out the empty reassurance. “I’m fine—” but it was interrupted by another bout of coughing, one that was much more distressing and painful, painting pale fingers with crimson.

Kurapika removed his shaking hand from his mouth, looking at the smear of blood. He didn’t need to look to his side to see the shock on his lover’s face. A thumb swiped across his lips, removing a trickle of blood and forcing him to look into agonized gray eyes.

“How long?” whispered Chrollo.

“A month… or two,” he replied apathetically. “You were mostly gone then.”

A grimace and a moment’s silence. His voice was even more forlorn when he spoke next. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you that I was dying… The specifics seemed redundant.”

The indifferent tone made a terrible situation even worse, and reality seemed too cold at that moment. The thought that an eternity of love and happiness could so easily become a fleeting memory struck Chrollo, and he took the blond’s undeniably thinning body into his arms.

“And I told you you weren’t going to die.”

A sigh, tired and defeated, left the younger man’s chapped, smeared lips. “Chrollo…”

“I promise.”

Arguments were time wasted, and Kurapika wanted whatever time he had left to be spent in that sweet, warm encapsulation of joy that he somehow managed to forge with the most unlikely person.

So he closed his eyes, rested his head against a strong chest, and allowed the gentle caress of fingers carding through his hair to lull him to sleep.

Waking the next day to find himself alone was a disappointment that was nonetheless denied, but he didn’t linger on the thought, going about his daily activities and work as usual. Monotony and vapidness defined each passing moment, and it seemed that the world was engulfed by a surreal haze. Hearing his friends and coworkers laugh and make plans for a time he didn’t know he would live to witness gave rise to an unnamed feeling inside him. It was hollow and dark, and he imagined that was how death would feel like.

Day after day, he came home to an empty apartment, and disappointment turned into frustration. Awful as it was, he imagined that the man who claimed to care for him had abandoned him to his inevitable end. And it hurt him more than he cared to admit.

But one afternoon, and waking up from a prolonged sleep that stole away the better part of the day, he trudged to the living room, only to find Chrollo hunched on his couch, elbows on his knees and face downcast. Kurapika approached slowly, questioning his sight, before he noticed that the man was bloodied and bruised, with an especially awful gash tearing across his hairline.

Exhaustion forgotten, he moved quickly to his side, rousing him from whatever thoughts had consumed him. Chrollo looked up at him, eyes expressing regret. Kurapika didn’t spare a moment to contemplate the alien look on his lover’s face, choosing instead to invoke his chains, but a hand quickly closed around his wrist, surprising him.

“Don’t,” said Chrollo quietly. “Don’t waste a second on me. I’ll heal in my own time.”

Kurapika thinned his lips, a furrow twisting his brow. Eventually he went to the bathroom and retrieved his first aid kit, returning to sit beside Chrollo on the couch. He cleaned the wounds and bandaged him carefully, feeling the unyielding stare that remained fixed on his face.

“What was the heist that messed you up this badly?”

“Not a heist.” A bandage was being wrapped slowly around his forehead, putting their faces on the same level. “I went to a government enclosed facility—they keep creatures from the Dark Continent there. I figured one of them would be able to reverse the conditions and effects of your ability.”

“You—!”

“But all of them were disposed of. Exterminated at the command of an idiot in power,” he spoke his words in dejected monotony, and it seemed that he took no notice of the growing incredulousness on the blond’s face, whose hands had ceased their work. “… I looked everywhere. Every department in the country and every section. They’re all gone.”

Kurapika heaved a broken sigh, his forehead falling on the other man’s shoulder. “I told you already—it’s hopeless—why would you…”

“I love you.” The words were spoken so simply, as though no other truth could compete their credibility. “I thought that was obvious.”

But that only caused Kurapika’s shoulders to quake, and soon, he was crying, his knuckles whitening with his tight grasp on a torn and bloodied jacket.

Chrollo kissed the top of his head, taking him ever so gently into his arms. “I’m not giving up.” He stroked his hair, not heeding the incessant shaking of his head. “We’ll find something. I promise… I promise.”

“You’re gone for so long…” said the blond in a mumble after he had calmed. “All the time… It—would mean more to me if you were here, when I’m at my worst…”

Confessing the need for help—for someone to be by his side—was far from being Kurapika’s strongest suit, and Chrollo knew that. He cursed himself silently for his prolonged absences; all the time wasted gathering objects that he disposed of after a mere day or two.

A mirthless laugh bubbled in his chest, but was suffocated by the daunting implication of this thought. How empty his life would be, how meaningless, without Kurapika by his side.

And so he made another promise, and the two promises combined translated into an arrangement. Every night, he would stay with Kurapika until he fell asleep, before leaving in search of a nen exorcist. By the crack of dawn, he would be back, climbing into bed carefully lest he woke him up.

This meant that he hardly had time for sleep, and the bags beneath his eyes became disconcertingly conspicuous, coupling with his ashen complexion to give him the appearance of a specter.

Sitting on an armchair with Kurapika curled up on his lap, he fought relentlessly to maintain consciousness, nodding off every now and then.

Kurapika nudged him softly with his elbow, removing his eyes from his book to look at him. “Sleep,” he said.

“I’m not tired…” mumbled Chrollo.

But a mere moment later, he was breathing deeply and his cheek was resting atop Kurapika’s head, who couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped him. But his mirth was quick to die in favor of wistfulness.

He brought his index to trace the handsome contours of the man’s face, and as it trekked down his forehead, his noise, before finally settling on his lips, Kurapika’s frown was replaced by a weary, unseeing stare.

His heart ached, and he couldn’t readily verify the source of pain anymore.

With the passage of days, Kurapika’s affliction spread from his internal organs to his bones and extremities, and it became harder to hide the toll of his rising debilitation from those around him. Work became an impossibility, which meant that he was confined to the small space of his apartment day in and day out.

Chrollo’s state of mind worsened accordingly, though he attempted a positive disposition for Kurapika’s sake. But it was impossible to ignore how his once bright gray eyes had dulled to a tenebrous color, or how his shoulders drooped as he pinched the bridge of his nose in complete, sullen exhaustion.

Nen exorcists could feasibly be located, and the Kurta entertained their attempts to circumvent his fate with the passivity of a person who held no expectations and no hope. And every time he had to endure a tedious session of fruitless exorcism, he watched realization crystallize in their eyes in the form of surrender. There was no saving him.

Their apologies were redundant, and their pity was unwelcome.

The worst part of this whole ordeal was watching Chrollo withdraw into an unreachable territory in his mind, his features giving nothing away aside from tumultuous darkness.

Kurapika lightly touched his nape, right where his dark hair parted due to having his neck bowed down. “How about we stop this?” he suggested quietly, though he received no immediate response. “Wouldn’t it be so much better for the both of us?”

A hand took his own and brought it where gentle lips could press against his palm. Then, Chrollo looked up at him from where he was seated on the edge of the bed.

“Have you truly made peace with it? … Death?”

He paused, and decided to answer honestly. “I’ll bear the fruits of my actions. The consequences aren’t something that I haven’t prepared for, but—that doesn’t mean I don’t wish—” his voice dropped in a whisper, “for things to be different.”

A tender smile eased the darkness away from Chrollo’s face. “That’s why I’m not giving up.”

The blond let out a huff that was bereft of actual annoyance as he was made to sit on the other man’s lap. “Stubborn,” he mumbled, his thumb tracing the seam of smiling lips. “You’re so ridiculously stubborn.”

“That’s funny,” said Chrollo lowly, eyes regaining that familiar glint even if for a passing second. “Because I’m pretty sure it’s a quality I picked up from you.”

Kurapika hummed, staring at where his thumb pressed against Chrollo’s lips, parting them. He leaned forward to suck lightly on his lower lip, which earned him a growl before his lover pulled back, cupping his face and pressing down on his chin for his mouth to open enough for him to slip his tongue inside.

They kissed desperately and fiercely, pulling back for intakes of air before diving in again, as though it could be the last time they would be given the chance. But when Chrollo picked Kurapika up, he lay him down on the mattress with utmost carefulness, as if fearful he would harm him in any way.

Pieces of clothing were discarded haphazardly, always followed by the heated assault of lips on the exposed flesh. A hand came to spread his legs apart, which brought Kurapika’s attention to his burning muscles and aching joints. He grimaced inadvertently, and the other man stopped his movements at once.

“Did I hurt you?”

He shook his head. “No, but… I don’t think I can…”

Realization clouded Chrollo’s visage, his eyebrows descending. Eventually, he said, “It’s fine.” Leaning down to kiss the other’s cheek, he mumbled, “We don’t have to.”

The sensation of a warm hand ghosting his abdomen and skirting lower stole the blond’s breath away. He made a sharp inhale when it wrapped around his shaft, stroking him intimately.

“I just want to make you feel good…” he whispered in his ear, sending blond tendrils in a momentary flutter.

“Mmn…” Kurapika craned his neck backwards, prompting Chrollo to nibble on the sensitive skin of his throat. “I…” he reached blindly in his direction, taking him in a firm grasp, “want to make you feel good, too…”

Chrollo chuckled lowly, his eyes closed. “Don’t worry about that,” he whispered. He thumbed at his slit, which had him bucking and arching into the touch. “Relax now, and let me take care of you.”

If the blond wished to make an argument, he voiced none of it, his limbs falling lax as inexplicable fatigue took over his motor functions. His relaxed state, coupled with his increased sensitivity, meant that he was extremely receptive to Chrollo’s touches. His mind swam with giddy pleasure as he continued to pump him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear and sending delicious shocks of ecstasy down his spine.

His moans were small and breathless, and he could feel the other man breathing heavily beside him. He fisted at the sheets and threw his head back, biting his lips to hold back a mewl.

“Let me hear you,” came the whispered command, which was enough to entice a moan on its own.

“I’m so close…”

“Let go, then,” Chrollo mumbled, kissing his cheek softly and pulling at his ear with his teeth. “Come for me, Kurapika…”

And with a choked gasp, Kurapika came hard, thrashing on the mattress as he rode out his high.

Consciousness began to slip away from his grasp, but he vaguely remembered being cleaned up and pulled into a warm embrace.

“Why are you so good to me?” he mumbled, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to keep them open.

Chrollo chuckled. “You keep asking these questions,” he said, stroking his hair, “and I give you the same answer.”

But Kurapika didn’t stay awake to hear Chrollo’s last three words.

Hours later, he would wake to the same voice calling his name. He blinked blearily, a small frown twisting his lips.

“Awake at last,” said Chrollo, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What time is it…?”

“A bit past eight.”

Kurapika sighed. “Here goes Monday.”

A pause, then, “It’s Tuesday, actually.”

Blue eyes shot open at the proclamation, and he sprang up into a seated position a bit too quickly, but he ignored his disorientation in favor of exclaiming, “I slept for more than thirty hours?!”

“Calm down, Kurapika,” said Chrollo. “It’s to be expected; that nen exorcism session exhausted you to the fullest.”

But the two of them knew that it wasn’t a necessarily healthy occurrence.

Kurapika reclined back against the bedpost, a pensive look on his face. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I hope you don’t plan on spending any more time in bed, though.” There was a liveliness to the older man's voice that had been absent for the longest time, causing the blond to look at him questioningly. “I’m taking you out.” Grinning, he waved two tickets in front of Kurapika, who squinted as he attempted to read the quickly moving font.

“What are those?”

“You always wanted to hear Mozart’s 40th symphony in a live performance, no?” Chrollo handed Kurapika the tickets, delighting in the excited shimmer that passed his weary eyes as he examined them. “Well, I managed to procure two great seats for tonight’s performance.”

With a raised eyebrow that spoke of amusement, Kurapika said, “Define ‘procure’.”

Chrollo’s grin gained a mischievous quality as he loosely crossed his arms. “Procure," he started, tilting his head to the side, "verb; to obtain or acquire an object. Honestly Kurapika, I think this lack of activity is causing serious harm to your upper capacities.”

He ducked just in time to evade the catapulted pillow, laughing softly.

“Idiot,” said Kurapika with a grin of his own, but he shook his head to hide it. When he made to get up, he found it difficult to maintain balance, and Chrollo had to hold his hand until he was properly standing. “I’m fine,” he said, ignoring the concerned frown on the other’s face. “Really, let’s just enjoy tonight and forget about everything.”

And the night did indeed shape up to be lovely. After having dinner in a vintage-themed restaurant, they opted to walk to the theatre in the refreshingly crisp air, conversing about topics far-removed from their present reality. Kurapika seemed light-hearted in a way that Chrollo had never witnessed before, and the latter was hard-pressed to erase the small smile that lingered on his lips when the blond became excited during a discussion of his favorite book.

Sitting amidst the awaiting spectators, Kurapika had his eyes glued to the stage when he lightly said, “You know, I’ve never been to the theater before.”

He sorely hoped he would be able to go again.

Then, music erupted and banished all his thoughts. He followed the graceful swing of the bow of a violin with his gaze, closed his eyes at the sad baritone of a cello, felt his lips tug in a smile when the melody became hopeful, and touched his cheek in bewilderment at the wetness he felt.

He unconsciously turned his head to the side to find Chrollo staring at him with an unreadable expression. Kurapika smiled softly in reassurance and shook his head before refocusing on the performance. He felt a hand reach for his own, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze.

Kurapika couldn’t recall the last time he felt so carefree—so happy.

But it wasn’t meant to last.

When the instruments sounded their last note and the audience broke out in applause, Kurapika felt himself growing faint. The world around him became blurred, and it was difficult to make out the voice calling out to him. An arm around his waist helped him stand, but the effort seemed to be beyond his scope of endurance, and soon enough, he fainted.

Vague sounds from the street and the sensation of being carried registered in the back of his mind. He recalled opening his eyes in a haze to find his head nestled against a shoulder, and he was sure he attempted to raise his hand; feel the face that pressed against the top of his head, but the most he could manage was a twitch of his fingers.

Then, he was in bed, clad in comfortable clothes and held in a warm, albeit tight, embrace. He breathed a heavy sigh through his nose when he became aware, and felt the arms around his waist tighten.

His days were few and numbered. And he was certain that Chrollo knew that as well.

Kurapika placed a gentle hand atop the other’s arm and felt uncharacteristically incapable of finding any word to say.

But he didn’t have to be the one to break the silence.

“Kurapika,” said Chrollo, his voice grave and quiet. “Do you trust me?”

The blond felt his eyebrows furrow. “… What do you mean?”

Chrollo shifted as he sat up straight. “I’ve been thinking. The hours you’ve lost might not truly be gone, but rather held as a recompense for maintaining your nen. What I mean to say is that your nen is parasitic. It feeds off your energy but does not scatter it away.” He began to mumble to himself much like a scientist thinking through a theory. “Perhaps if you no longer hosted your nen…”

Kurapika’s frown grew deeper, but he felt his heartbeat quicken at the implication. “Chrollo, what are you saying?”

The raven-haired man looked at him, eyes serious and resolute. He raised his right hand and conjured the Bandit’s Secret. “I’m saying, do you trust me?”

Realization bore a daunting mien on the blond’s visage. He stared at the seemingly innocuous book for long seconds before returning his gaze to the man holding it. “You… want to take my nen?”

“Not for myself, naturally,” said Chrollo, looking away with what appeared to be disappointment; disappointment that such a thought would even cross Kurapika’s mind. “I will destroy the page the moment it manifests in the book.” He looked at him again; this time, his gray eyes were desperate and pleading, and the words they wished to speak resonated in the silent air.

“… Well? Kurapika?”

Kurapika’s expression softened as he held the other’s gaze. “Okay,” he whispered. “I trust you, Chrollo.”

And at that, Chrollo’s eyes widened a fraction, but he didn’t waste a second contemplating his response. He had the blond fulfill the necessary conditions and watched as a new page appeared in his book, his heartbeat erratic and his hand gripping the leather binding.

This was their last chance.

He tore out the page and gave it to Kurapika. “Hold it in the air for me.” It was a wonder that his voice was coherent, taking into consideration the tumultuous emotions coursing through his blood.

For his part, Kurapika was deadly silent, operating like an automaton albeit breathing heavily. The piece of paper shook in his hand as he held it up, and no matter how hard he tried to quieten his nerves, he simply couldn’t.

Chrollo struck a match and touched the flame against the edge of the page. It quickly ate at the parchment, and when it reached the written words, Kurapika’s eyes widened in a surge of unspeakable pain. He took in a large gulp of air, instantly releasing the paper to have it fall onto a glass plate in Chrollo’s grasp.

The flame continued its erosion, and when it reached the script detailing the woking of his Judgement Chain, his heart convulsed and burned, tearing a scream from his throat. He clutched his chest until his nails penetrated the fabric of his shirt and tore through his skin, but all of this pain was _worth it_ , because suddenly, his heart was lighter; there was no dagger ready to pierce right through it, and the oppressive weight of the chain was gone.

Kurapika gasped for air and felt it expand his chest in a way that was unprecedented. He felt revitalized; enlivened; so very _light_.

He looked at the heap of ash on his bedside table, then at the wide-eyed, apprehensive look on Chrollo’s face. He seemed almost scared to ask how he felt, just as Kurapika was scared to jump to conclusions.

Slowly, he stretched his limbs, and found that the burning ache was gone. He stood on his feet, walking for the first time in weeks without needing to rely on any kind of support. His gait was light and stealthy as he remembered it being, and he couldn’t help how his lips curled upwards progressively with every step he took. When he reached the window, he turned, a full beam lighting his visage.

For a few moments, Chrollo could only gape at him, but when realization crystallized in his mind, he strode forwards and took Kurapika’s face in both hands before crushing his mouth onto his. He kissed him, again and again, until the bubbling laughter in his chest forced him to pull away.

The blond found himself laughing as well, though the sound morphed into a surprised yelp when the man embracing him had them both fall sideways onto the mattress.

Chrollo then released him, brushing away blond tendrils to freely examine his beaming face, and found his smile to be entirely addictive.

“It worked,” he breathed, planting a kiss on his forehead.

A thought occurred to Kurapika and he tilted his head upwards to look at his lover. “Does this mean I’ll have to relearn nen?”

“Mm,” Chrollo nodded, eyes closed and face serene. “It also means you get to choose another ability. Unless… your predilections _do_ incline you towards chains…”

He anticipated the swat and didn’t move away, chuckling when it actually came.

Kurapika shook his head in fond annoyance and nuzzled against his chest, wondering how he could be fortunate enough to be awarded a new beginning.

“By the way,” he said after a while.

“Hm?”

“I love you, too.”

 

 


End file.
